The Joys of Interrogation
by redqueenb
Summary: She'd failed. For the first time in her life, she'd failed. The most infamous assassin in all of Europe had failed and been caught. The police had been interrogating her for hours, with no success. It was time to bring in an expert, Mr Sherlock Holmes. OC/Sherlock - Sherlock/John - Moriarty/OC


She sat with her head down, staring at her cuffed hands. The thick leather jacket covering her upper body hugged her comfortably, used to the shape of her body after many years of wear. The black low-cut top covered her dark navy push-up bra, which gave her small boobs a delicious cleavage. The dark leggings were ripped at the knees after her failed escape. They had removed the daggers from their holsters, but they'd left the harnesses strapped to her thighs. She shut her eyes and sighed.

She had failed. For the first time ever, she had failed. The most infamous assassin in the history of Europe had failed. Not only that, but it was a painfully easy mission as well. Get in, slit their throats in their sleep, get the necklace, get out. The possibly even more aggravating part is that she had no idea why she'd failed either. When she'd thought of her plan, it had seemed flawless. She was going to sneak in through the second-floor library window, which they always kept conveniently open. That was her first mistake. She slammed her fists on the interrogation table in front of her. She should've known! Nothing is ever that easy!

She was going to go up the stairs and kill the main targets first; Mr and Mrs Jupperbottom. They'd managed to gather up quite a few enemies through their drug cartel. Shame, really. They both seemed like lovely people. Then she would go to the servants' chamber and swiftly slit their throats. Believe it or not, killing innocent people was nothing she took pleasure out of. Better end their poor lives as quickly as possible instead. Lastly, she'd move on to the children's chambers. They had two beautiful children; One girl and one boy. The boy had short, ebony hair and stunning hazel eyes. Very pretty indeed, though he was a brat. She'd witnessed him slap the help, yell at his sister and punch his mother a few times. She did not like the little man at all.

The girl, on the other hand, she liked. She had fiery red locks and the most stunning lime eyes she'd ever seen. Truly a beauty. She liked to sit in the library and read stories about dragons, elves, princesses and knights in shining armour. She was fascinated by the girl's ability to lose herself in books. She'd sit for hours and read, and nothing could interrupt her lime eyes as they carefully read each word. She'd decided that she'd kill her before her brother, to spare her the suffering of having to watch her brother die. She'd snuck in and managed to kill her targets before she heard it. Police sirens. She didn't pay any mind to them at first. She'd unplugged the alarm hours ago before the family even went to bed. They weren't here for her. She continued her work and began making her way to the servants' chamber. She moved like a panther, hunting for her prey. She felt a bit dizzy as she moved but decided that it was from the lack of hydration. She hadn't had the time to drink enough. But the sirens wouldn't go away. She was almost there when she heard the front entrance being slammed open.

"MOVE! SHE'S IN HERE SOMEWHERE! NOW, GO GO GO!"

a masculine voice yelled.

She looked around her. The closest exit would be the huge glass window in the library. So she grabbed her gun and ran. Ran as fast as her long, slender legs would allow her; And slammed out of the window.

The sound of glass shattering was deafening. The shards cut into her delicate skin, ripping her open like a piece of meat. She gasped as she tried to figure out her landing. If she landed on her legs she'd break her ankles. She decided that the bush would be the best place to land. But she never made it to the bush. In the middle of the fall, she lost consciousness.

She'd woken up in this very chair about an hour ago, and she'd already been aggressively interrogated by the police officers. She'd just rolled her eyes at their stupid questions and ignored them. She looked down at her handcuffs again. A simple model, common police cuffs. Wouldn't take much to get out of. She started working on the when the door to the interrogation room suddenly slammed open.

"Yes, yes. Lestrade. I know what I'm doing. Leave." she heard a husky voice say. She resisted the temptation to turn her head and look back at the person who'd just entered.

"I know. Just go easy on her, yeah?", the man known as "Lestrade" said. She snorted loudly. Like they were gonna get anything out of her.

"Go. Now.", the other man said. She heard the door close behind him, and the click of the lock.

The man made his way to the chair on the other side of the interrogation table. When he came into her sight, she drew a short breath. He was hot. Ridiculously hot. He was wearing a tightly tailored suit that hugged his body in the most delicious ways. His brown, curly hair looked soft on his beautiful head. His piercing blue eyes met hers and she snickered.

"They sent a damn model to interrogate me?", she snorted and looked into the camera in the corner of the room, "I might be female but I won't suddenly just spill all my secrets because you send a hot guy in here"

He pulled out the chair and sat down. He placed his hands on the table. He was holding a... a riding crop? Her breath hitched for a second. He simply observed her with his striking blue eyes. She nodded at the riding crop

"You know you can't actually do anything with that, yeah? Cameras and stuff. Torture is, unfortunately, quite illegal in the UK"

"Accent. You're definitely not from the UK or even Ireland. Noo, your accent is fake. Though it is rather good, it's easy to spot if you know what you're looking for. The slight rolling of the r's suggests you're from... Scandinavia. Probably Norway, but it's hard to tell since you're clearly not a native. Your family is most likely from Kenya or Uganda. You dye your hair red because it makes you feel powerful, even though it makes you stand out which really is not good in your occupation. Your mother died when you were young and your father ran off soon after your birth with the nanny. Am I correct? Also, the cameras are turned off for 2 hours and I can do precisely what I want to you, they won't stop me. They need me. Idiots here wouldn't last a day.", he said matter of factly.

She leant back and looked at him, amazed.

"All be damned. Sherlock Holmes! Never had the pleasure!", she leant forward, her curly red hair framing her beautiful face.

"Although, I won't tell you anything. Just so you know. I'd love to chat for a bit, though! Been asked to kill your brother a few times. Mycroft, is it? Lovely lad." she continued. She saw Sherlock's face harden.

"I'm going to give you one chance to tell me why you were there, what your end goal was, and how many people you've killed.", he said, his gorgeous orbs staring into her black intensely. She rolled her eyes.

"You're gonna have to do better than that, Mr Holmes", she said.

He stood up and walked to the other side of the room, behind her back. She heard him put down the riding crop on a metal tray. He took a step towards her and roughly yanked her head backwards. She groaned loudly but didn't try to free herself. She knew better. He leant in and hissed in her ear.

"So predictable. Do I really need to repeat myself? The camera is off, no one can see you. I can, and will, do whatever I want to you. So I recommend that you behave."

She liked this game.


End file.
